Help Me
by Lydia En. E. Ways
Summary: "I’m not weak, John!" she interrupted, growing more aggravated with every second that passed. "I grew up with this, I can handle it!"...John stared at her sympathetically. He wanted to help her. Why wouldn’t she let him?
1. Chapter One

~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~  
  
Title - Help Me  
  
Author - Lydia En. E. Ways  
  
Email - ERKeff@aol.com  
  
  
  
~*~o~*~  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
  
~*~-o-~*~  
  
  
  
Abby gazed out the fogged window of the train, letting her eyes skim the poverty stricken houses. The houses (if they could be called houses at all) had pealing paint and roofs that caved inward. The lawns had uncut grass that had grown to half the height of the rusted pick-up trucks that sat in the dusty yard. Abby turned away from the window, and tried to focus on why she was making this trip.  
  
It started last night with the phone call, a simple phone call. She and John were enjoying a nice dinner together. There were candles on the table, and she and John had whipped up some recipe from "Bon Appetite". They had just sat down for their dinner, when the phone rang. Abby ignored it, letting the machine take a message.  
  
"Umm. My name is Pete, and I am looking for an Abigail Lockhart? Your mother, Margaret W- Wyczenski, is in my hotel."  
  
Abby's eyes grew wide with dread at the mention of her mother's name. She stole a glace at Carter, then leapt from the table and grabbed the phone. "H- Hello?"  
  
"Umm. Are you Abigail?"  
  
"Yes, it's Abby. What is it about my mother? "  
  
John stared at Abby as she clutched the phone, absorbing every word the man muttered, her face turning more and more pained every second that passed. After five or so minutes, Abby returned to the table and buried her head in her hands.  
  
"She's sick again, John. She is sitting in a hotel room somewhere in Massachusetts."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"God, I hate this shit!" Abby muttered to herself as she wiped the tears off her face with her palms. She picked up her face and stared at Carter, "I don't know what happened; the man wouldn't tell me, but I have to go out and get her."  
  
"Abby, my mother lives on the Cape. Do you want to stay there with me? So you don't have to pay for a hotel?"  
  
Abby started to chuckle, until she saw he was serious. "John, we are dating, not living together... Besides, I can manage by myself."  
  
"Don't be silly! Let me come with you! For support, or whatever..."  
  
"I'm not weak, John!" she interrupted, growing more aggravated with every second that passed. "I grew up with this, I can handle it!"  
  
"I didn't say that you weren't strong, but."  
  
"I'm fine, Carter." Abby snapped. John looked up, and met her fiery gaze.  
  
"Damn it! I pushed too far...step back..." John thought to himself.  
  
"When do you leave?"  
  
"Tomorrow."  
  
"Do you want me to get you a plane ticket or anything?"  
  
"No," she answered coldly, signaling the end of their dinner.  
  
John stared at her sympathetically. He wanted to help her. Why wouldn't she let him? They had been friends for so long. He got up from the table, and grabbed his coat.  
  
"I'm really sorry about Maggie. Have a safe trip out, and here is my cell phone number if you need me."  
  
He walked up to her, and planted a kiss on her forehead, like a father would kiss a relentless angry child. He dropped a sheet of paper next to the telephone with his number on it, and left her apartment.  
  
Abby continued to stare at her plate of uneaten food as John kissed her, and as he solemnly walked out of the apartment. When she heard the door close, she lifted her face as a single tear drifted down her face.  
  
~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~  
  
I just wanted to thank my two wonderful betas, Katie and Anne, who have been extremely helpful, and have put up with the worst spelling and grammar mistakes ever! If you read this, can you please, PLEASE email me and let me know that you read my story. I love criticism, cause any criticism is constructive! So, please just let me know if you read it.  
  
Lydia 


	2. Chapter Two

~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~  
  
Title - Help Me  
  
Author - Lydia En. E. Ways  
  
Email - ERKeff@aol.com  
  
  
  
~*~-o-~*~  
  
CHAPTER TWO  
  
~*~-o-~*~  
  
  
  
"Ma'am... Ma'am. Your stop is coming in fifteen minutes," a man with a heavy North Shore accent told Abby as he tried to pull her away from the sleep that clung to her heavy eyes.  
  
"Thanks," she responded half-heartedly as she rubbed her hands against her eyelids, attempting to wipe the sleep from them. She rose slightly in her seat and peered out the train window.  
  
Golden light from the evening sun mingled with the dark cold shadows, cast from the scarce amount people that wandered the lonely streets, and the building that towered twelve stories high. The buildings were made of thick concrete and stained a dusty brown from car exhaust and pollution; the upper windows were painted black or had plastic bags taped over the broken shards of glass.  
  
"Why here, Mom? Why did you come here?" Abby muttered to herself as she stared out at the poverty stricken streets. She started to sink into deeper thoughts when the conductor appeared next to her again.  
  
"We are pulling in to the station," the bothersome conductor told her. "I would advise gathering your things and moving toward the door."  
  
Abby nodded to him, gathered her things, and got off the train. The minute she stepped on to the platform, the cold bitter wind swept around her, picking up the ends of her coat and nipping her face. She pulled her coat tighter around her.  
  
"I thought Chicago was the coldest place on the earth," she muttered to herself and hauled her suitcases in to a "Checker Cab".  
  
~*~-o-~*~  
  
"What do you mean he isn't there?" Abby practically screeched in to her cell phone receiver. She resumed pacing the floor of her hotel room, walking along the stripes of the carpet.  
  
"No, No! Do not put me on hold again! He is out to dinner? No, this cannot wait! My mother is in that hotel, I need to speak to her." She was becoming even more frustrated at the incompetent desk clerk on the other end of the phone.  
  
"I have told you Ma'am, I am dreadfully sorry but Mr. Breckport has instructed me not to interrupt him tonight. If you leave a message, I will tell him to get back to you tomorrow on the whereabouts of your mother," the woman said for the seventh time.  
  
"Fine! My name is Abby Lockhart..."  
  
She angrily spat out her phone number, and in a furry hung up the phone and flung it against the wall. She ran her fingers threw her hair, and grabbed her coat. She remembered seeing a bar around the corner.  
  
~*~-o-~*~  
  
"Do you want one more drink before we close?" the bartender asked her.  
  
She picked her head up from her arms and looked around the bar room. It was completely empty, except for her, the bartender and several empty glasses sat in front of her. "Nope, but thanks." she replied as she grabbed her coat and stumbled out the door. She looked miserable. Her hair was mangled, and whipped around her head ferociously in the bitter wind. Her face looked tired, and there were dark circles under her eyes. To any passerby, she might have looked like Medusa; with her wild snake hair, and a glare that turn flesh to stone.  
  
She finally reached the door to her hotel room, and slid her card through the lock and went inside the room that was blanketed in a thick goose down blanket of darkness. The darkness comforted her, it matched the feeling in her soul: cold nothingness.  
  
She stumbled across the room, and saw her discarded cell phone blinking on the floor. She picked it up and listen to her new message.  
  
"Hey, Abby... this is John. I'm just wondering how you are, and if you got there OK. Call me, if you want anything."  
  
"Boy Scout," Abby thought as she rolled in to bed and drifted off to sleep. 


	3. Chapter Three

~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~ ~*~-o-~*~  
  
Title - Help Me Author - Lydia En. E. Ways Email - ERKeff@aol.com  
  
  
  
~*~-o-~*~  
  
CHAPTER THREE  
  
~*~-o-~*~  
  
Abby stood trembling before Maggie's burning body. Maggie was laughing as the red flames suffused her blackening body.  
  
"No." Abby murmured. Her body started to shake harder as her mother extended a burning hand and pulled her into the flames.  
  
At that moment Abby awoke from her troubled sleep, gasping for air. Her body trembled and her palms were sweaty with fear.  
  
"It was just a dream." she said out loud. If she said it out loud, maybe the chills going up her spine would stop; if she said it out loud, maybe her arms might stop shaking; if she said it out loud, maybe the goose-bumps would go away. If she said it out loud, maybe it wouldn't feel as real as it seemed.  
  
Abby arose from her bed, and walked through the splotches of morning gray light that were splattered across the floor and into the bathroom.  
  
Steam rolled off the top of the water and in to the stale air. Droplets created little streams down her face as she splashed the scalding water onto her skin.  
  
"It was just a dream. Those days are over now."  
  
~*~-o-~*~  
  
"Thank you, Pete. Thank you very much." Abby said as she hung up the phone. Her mother was in a hotel on the corner of Chestnut and River street, room 114A. She let out a sigh of relief as she grabbed her coat and walked out the hotel room door.  
  
She knew where her mother was, although the news that Pete had reported didn't sound good. Maggie was manic again.  
  
The sun was setting low in the sky, which seemed odd. Yet, it was December and the days were shorter now. Abby was already wishing this day was over.  
  
Her mind wandered as she walked along the empty streets. At least this time Maggie wasn't in Okalahoma.  
  
~*~o~*~  
  
"And she is here, right?" Abby asked Pete. His suit and white shit were still remarkably unwrinkled, and every hair was still in place.  
  
"Yes, I'm positive she is here. She hasn't left her room since she checked in here two weeks ago." Pete said. "And her bill is really stacking up because of all that room service." he added with a softer chuckle.  
  
Abby grew irritated. "Can you just show me her room, and I'll deal with the bill later?"  
  
"Certainly." Pete said as he flashed a sly grin and lead her to the stairs.  
  
~*~o~*~  
  
Pete stopped in the middle of a long corridor, and stared at a beige door with brass numbers on it; 114A. He knocked smartly on the door and called inside, "Mrs. Wyczenski?"  
  
Silence responded his call, and he knocked again. Abby rolled her eyes and looked down the corridor. Beige walls matched the doors, and the carpet aswell. A plant sat at the end of the hallway; its leaves dusty and drooping with thirst. A man walked past them and withdrew into his room.  
  
She turned her attention back to the pathetic hotel manager who was still knocking on the door. "Don't you have a key?!?" she snapped.  
  
"Well, yes." he replied, looking confused.  
  
Abby wanted to tear her hair out she was so tense, and this man wasn't helping either. "Well.. why don't you use it?"  
  
He slid the key in to the lock, and opened the door for her. "There you are" he said, feeling offended at her blunt rudeness.  
  
"Thanks" she muttered as she gazed in to the room. Clothes were all over the floor, and old trays of food from room service lay around the room with half eaten food. The windows curtains were half drawn, showing the red sunset outside. The TV was on, and a blue light cast over the room, making everything seem stark and painful. Abby's heart raced, and she started to panic. Where was she?  
  
She tried to keep her voice calm, but it wavered all the same, "Maggie?" She pulled her arms around herself and called out again "Maggie, where are you?" 


End file.
